The Color Crimson: Winter Tag Team Entry
by twostrandsofmelody
Summary: This is a short Raoul/Christine/Phantom fic for a contest over on DeviantArt. Read, Ignore, I'm alright with either.


_The Colour Crimson_

On this chilly Christmas Eve patrons, ballerinas, singers, stagehands, and musicians came together to celebrate Christmas in a truly theatrical fashion. A masquerade! Every turn of your head would supply your eyes with a sea of colour and the bizarre. Animals fit for Africa and demons mingled together in a display of dance and enthusiasm.

The grand entry way of the Opera Populaire had been transformed from the basic marble, gold, and sculpted designs into a world of white and glistening snow. The staircases were incased in silvery tinsel that reflected the light from the flickering candles in the chandelier like a thousand dazzling diamonds. A massive star hung as the centre point of the room, suspended above the dancing crowd below.

"A winter wonderland." Raoul remarked, as he spun Christine back in towards him.

"It's so beautiful!" Christine giggled as she continued to move with the music, swishing past him in her crimson dress.

"Not as beautiful as you." Raoul smiled down at the curly haired girl in his arms.

"Oh, Raoul." Christine felt her cheeks heat up under his gaze, and she turned away.

"My Little Lotte." He held his hand out for her, readjusting his mask. "Would you care to come with me, I see Monsieur Feul."

Christine glanced towards the crowd of men that Raoul was staring at. "Only for a few minutes." Christine looked back towards Meg and the other girls, "You've kept me dancing since we arrived, I haven't had a chance to say anything to Meg."

"I only wish to introduce you to my colleagues." Raoul placed his hand at the small of her back, giving her a wink. "This is my-"

"Raoul!" Christine gasped, shaking her head. "No, not yet."

"You are merciless. Making a man wait to announce the most exciting news of his life."

Christine beamed at him as they walked towards the gentleman. Though he had yet to properly ask her and present to her a ring, they had been discussing their engagement for several weeks now. She hardly believed that she was actually going to be marrying her childhood sweetheart. But she was also hesitant about it all. What would her tutor say? Wouldn't he be furious if she chose to leave the Opera Populaire?

The gentleman eyed Christine as she approached with Raoul. She was radiant in the dark crimson dress she wore. It just barely swept along the floor as she moved. She had gone for less bizarre and more beautiful. The tiered layers of the dress were studded with the crystals that stopped just as it reached the bodice that snugged tightly to her petite waist. Her mask concealed just around her eyes, it was crimson just like her dressed and crowned with feathers.

"Gentlemen," Raoul started, looking between the men and Christine. "This is Mademoiselle Christine Daae."

"Ah, yes, what a gem."

"You were exquisite in _Hannibal_."

"When will we see you shining on that stage again?"

Christine's eyes widened as she was bombarded by their questions. "Thank you ever so much." She glanced towards Raoul. "I am not sure when I will be performing again. The choice is whatever the owners desire."

"She's an absolute angel de Chagny." One of them commented with a hearty laugh.

Raoul rested his hand on her back, reassuring her silently. "She is."

"Excuse me." Christine curtseyed politely, as she turned she muttered to Raoul. "I'll be just a minute with Meg."

Christine turned to make her way towards Meg, but her path was intercepted by a tall man in a crisp black suit, white vest, and red bowtie. His mask completely covered his face, concealing his identity from her. She tried to side step past him, but he stepped directly into her path.

"Excuse me."

She thought for a moment that he would not move out of her way, but silently he bowed his head and moved aside. She scurried past him and towards Meg, glancing over her shoulder at the masked man. She observed him for a moment, seeing that he mingled with no one.

"Who is he?"

"Who?" Meg asked, looking past Christine's shoulder and spotting the well-dressed gentleman that she and the other ballerinas had been watching. "Oh!"

"Oh?"

"We don't know who he is." Meg admitted, shrugging her shoulders. "We have our theories-"

"I bet he's handsome." Celia, the auburn haired ballerina piped up. "Just look at his clothes!"

"He's wealthy – no doubt!" Amiee added in, clutching Celia's arm with a girlish giggle.

"Has he danced with anyone?" Christine asked, catching herself watching the figure as he moved about the room. Her breath caught in her throat as he turned his head, his eyes meeting hers across the ballroom. "He's seen me watching him now. Look what you all have got me doing." She felt her cheeks burning hot as she turned back to the girls.

"He's danced with no one." Meg replied, still watching the man. "He's looking this way."

"Because he saw me watching him." Christine muttered her back to the crowd. She didn't want anyone to see the look of embarrassment plastered to her face. "I'm just going to sneak back through the crowd and make my way to Raoul's side."

"Christine don't be ridiculous. He's already disappeared again." At Meg's words Christine turned to see if she could spot out the striking figure in the crowd. He was gone.

"He was probably only admiring how beautiful you look." Amiee commented, smiling at Christine. "Are you and the Vicomte-"

"Please…" Christine blushed, shaking her head. She glanced across the room towards Raoul and the other gentlemen. Raoul was ensnared in their conversations. Did she wish to be questioned by the other ballerinas or endure the gentlemen's piercing gazes? "Perhaps, I should return to Raoul. I did say I'd only be a moment."

"I'll see you tomorrow at breakfast!" Meg grinned, taking her friend's hand and squeezing it. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas Meg. Celia. Amiee."

Christine turned, carefully seeking out a path back to Raoul where she didn't see the tall, well-dressed man. She didn't see him anywhere actually; he had vanished into the sea of people. How would she explain herself? Staring was rude, but she could explain it as admiring his mask. It was a very exquisite mask. She'd never seen one like it before.

Christine's doe eyes widened as the man suddenly stepped into her path. Before she could even utter an apology he held out his hand towards her. "Would you care to dance?" He asked, his voice hesitant.

"Oh!" Christine instantly thought of how Meg had said he had danced with no one. "You must be mistaken." She lifted her mask, revealing who she was. Half-heartedly she wished that it would inspire him to reveal himself.

He was silent for a moment as his eyes searched her face. She had seen those eyes before, she was sure of it. They were remarkably beautiful eyes, though they were truly nothing extraordinary. They seemed to hold every secret in the world behind them. He didn't retract his hand.

"I would ask no one else."

"Who are you?" She questioned, trying to in earnest match the eyes with someone from the theatre. She was disheartened that she was not able to recognize them, they seemed so familiar but she couldn't pinpoint who they belonged to.

"You will find out." She imagined that he was grinning beneath the mask. "If you dance with me."

The music began to soar as she placed her hand in his. She was captivated by this man. The feeling was otherworldly, she was drawn to him.

She was entranced by the man's eyes that peered out from behind the full faced mask that he wore. She knew she had seen those golden eyes somewhere before. His movements were elegant and well trained, like a man with years of exacted practice and she felt a little novice in his presence. Was he one of the older male dancers? She still couldn't identify those eyes. Haunting eyes.

"You're stunning tonight Christine. _Crimson_ is your color." His voice sent shivers through her body. She recognized its timbre and vibrato. It was on the very tip of her tongue, she knew who he was but she couldn't remember.

"Thank you." Christine blushed, her eyes dipping down as they came together in close proximity in the dance. Her mysterious dancer was captivating. Even without knowing who it was behind the mask she felt drawn to him.

Who was this man?

As the dance drew to the end, she felt reluctant to let this dancer go. She wanted just one more dance with him. Perhaps _then_ she would know who he was. He had promised if she danced he would tell her who he was. Hadn't he?

"I would like just one mor-" She started to say as she glanced back to ensure that Raoul was still busyily chatting with the gentlemen. She turned back and gasped, her dancer was gone without a trace. She searched the crowd of masks and suites trying to find the unique mask that he had worn.

But he was nowhere to be seen.

He had vanished and he had not revealed who he had been. Her heart sank as she searched for him desperate to know who had enchanted her so thoroughly.

~o~

Exhausted from an evening full of dancing, Christine retired to her dressing room just after the clock had struck one. She was ready to rid herself of her crinoline, corset, and dress. She bid Raoul farewell, giving him a playful smirk as he tried to steal a kiss from her lips. Turning her cheek to him she slipped into her dressing room and locked the door behind her.

She slipped out of dress and underpinnings and pulled on her night robe. Pulling loose the dangling earrings that she had worn she moved towards her vanity. Out of habit she reached for her jewelry box, but gasped at what she saw laying on her vanity.

The mask that her mysterious dancer had worn sat there and beside it laid a single red rose tied with a black ribbon with a note attached.

With trembling hands she tore the red wax seal and breathlessly read the note. It all made sense now! Those eyes and that voice. The elegance and the grace.

_Christine,_

_Our lessons will resume tomorrow evening. I hope that you enjoyed_

_Your evening off tonight, dancing around the winter paradise._

_You looked stunning tonight, crimson is your color.  
><em>

_Merry Christmas  
>Your Humble and Obedient Servant<em>


End file.
